Dont Love Me, Please
by Quirky Persnickety
Summary: Draco reflects on Harry's unexpected confession. HarryDraco slash all the way baby.


The day I found out, I think my whole life changed. I, it, we, all upside down. In just a few words, too. It's funny how poewrful they can be.

I remember the day exactly, almost down to the last second and every second after. It was just two months ago, in August, on a perfectly rain-drenched entirely miserable Quidditch match. We were losing badly, and to Hufflepuff of all teams. It was too foggy; I couldn't see a thing. Especially not the bludger that had come hurtling out of nowhere and hit my broom full-on. I must have fallen at least fifty feet but it only felt like a metre. I crashed and everything disappeared.

After that, it was dark and muddled. I sort of remember vague patches of people talking above me in hushed whispers, bright white ilghts, sharp searing pain. It was as foggy as the sky had been.

Somehow though, your voice made it through.

As I was waking up I became painfully aware that the crash had done my body no goo, and that I was in the infirmary. Then I heard your voice, quiet and slightly blurred, from somewhere to my left. I vaguely wondered what the hell you were doing and I realized you must've been talking to someone else. I was about to open my eyes when your name slipped off your tongue and I realized you were talking to me after all. I thought about it and decided to keep up the unconscious façade, just for the hell of it. I had to strain my ears to hear you. Your voice was so quiet and…scared?

"…says you might not make it…" you muttered. I silently snorted. As if I, Draco Malfoy, was going to be defeated by a pathetic little fall. Even if it did make me feel like I'd been hit with a Crucio.

"I should tell you something." You said awkwardly after a while. "Not that you can here it (guess again Wonder Boy), but…maybe just to get it off my chest."

I was nearly twitching with eager curiosity. I was desperate to hear whatever crap you were going to warble on about, figuring I could somehow blackmail you later or something. I thought it was going to be about Sirius or Voldemort. I couldn't have been more wrong.

"I think I love you." You said softly, sending me reeling head-first into shock. There was a brief pause, then, almost as an afterthought: "I think I always have."

I was frozen. I think even my blood had ceased to flow. My mind was in overdrive, screaming out objections.

'You couldn't be telling the truth,' I thought desperately. 'It has to be a joke, a trick, a dream, a nightmare, _whatever_ it was it couldn't be the truth!'

I decided it was a good time to drop the act. My eyes cracked open just in time to see your face move in, your eyes fluttering shut. Your breath was beating a tattoo on my dry lips when I realized I had to do something, and fast.

"Potter." I tried to snarl it but it came out hollow and confused. Your eyes flew open and you jerked back.

"M-Malfoy!" You stammered, glancing about wildly. "How-how long have you been awake?!"

I thought about lying then dismissed it. I wanted to see your reaction. "Long enough." I said as evenly as I could manage.

A look of horror settled into your face and I wanted to smirk but my damn lips wouldn't move.

"I can…" You started to mumble something, your face beet red, but before you could finish Madam bustled up, cheerfully telling me I was lucky to be alive. I only looked away for few seconds but when I looked back, you were gone.

It's been two long months since that day, and nothing has changed. You haven't brought it up and I haven't asked. We've carried on, exactly the same, as if it never happened. Well, maybe not exactly. I'm still the same.

I still insult you and mock your little Trio, and brag about my superiority. Yep, I'm still the same. I don't know how else to be.

You've changed though. Not noticeably at first. You still retaliate my comments and your glare is still the same. But when we accidentally run into each other in the halls you flinch. When I catch you staring at me, your eyes dart away and you fidget like there's no tomorrow. When our hands knock each other reaching for the armadillo bile, your neck flushes red and lets me know you haven't forgotten.

I haven't forgotten either, but nothing's really changed. Maybe it's just as well too. I don't know how else to be.

Woot! I think Draco was way OOC in this, but it had to be done :D I'm planning this as a one-shot type thing but if someone out there, for some crazy unknown reason, wants me to continue it I will. Yep, that's about it. Feedback is lurved.

-Quirks


End file.
